


Despite All My Rage

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2k18 [9]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Captured, Gen, Missions Gone Wrong, Prompt: bound and gagged, The Galra are jerks, bound and gagged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 08:55:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16115075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: Getting captured really isn't Keith's idea of a good time.





	Despite All My Rage

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I can only name things based on songs or video games. Hm.

Keith didn’t move, insomuch as he could while being dragged down the hall by drones. There was no point in fighting them-- their grip was tight enough to leave bruises through his armor and they couldn’t be taken by surprise. When they handed him off to their Galra commanders was when he would have his chance.

It was fair to say that the mission wasn’t going well. It was meant to be a one man mission-- get in, insert the little USB Pidge had given him, wait for it to download the data, and go. But apparently the Galra had upped their cybersecurity and the moment he plugged into the console an alarm had blared. He’d made it halfway back to his Lion before being cornered. 

Now the drones were stopping in front of a door and he swallowed, reminding himself to be patient. Wait for the perfect moment. 

The door beeped at the drones touch and slid open, revealing the bridge of the small cargo ship, puny compared to others Keith had been on before. The captain, a female Galra with an angular, reptilian face, stood with her back to her console, clearly awaiting their arrival. 

“The intruder, Captain,” said the drone in it’s electronic voice. Keith kept his head tilted down, counting breaths.

Wait, wait. Patience yields focus. 

At a gesture from the captain the drones released his arms, but Keith didn’t budge as she stepped closer. The robots were still behind him, between him and the door. It wasn’t time yet.

The captain studied him for a long moment, glanced over his armor; Keith heard her breath catch when she realized who he was.

“A paladin of Voltron.” She murmured, slightly awed sounding. Keith couldn’t blame her, this ship wasn’t very high up on the Galra hierarchy. They probably never expected to end up in this situation. 

“Bind him,” was her next order, turning sharply to face the front. “Navigator, set us a course for Central Command. We should deliver him immediately to Zarkon.”

The drones took a step back as two guards rose from their seats, and Keith sucked in a deep breath.

Now. 

Quickly he spun on his heel, grabbing a drone by the arm as it withdrew. With a yank he sent it crashing into the other, then hopped nimbly over their tangled limbs and made a break for the door. 

The Galra guards right on his heels, Keith slammed his hand down on the scanner and slipped through the door the moment it was wide enough. 

He made it three steps into the hallway before clawed hands descended on him. This time he didn’t hold back; he summoned his bayard and poured everything he had into getting away. 

More guards, shouting and growling, joined the fray. The butt of a blaster got a lucky hit to his cheekbone and Keith staggered as blood exploded in his mouth. The momentary lapse was all that was required for them to dogpile him and force him to the floor. 

This time he didn’t go quietly, fighting the guards’ hold every step of the way, until five Galra soldiers were required to haul him before the cold-eyed captain.

“So, you’re a halfbreed.” Keith had heard that phrase come from a lot of people, many of them unfriendly, but none of them held quite as much disdain or disgust as this Galra captain, glowering down at him with golden eyes. 

“Make sure you get the traitor cuffs.” She snapped at the guard leaving the room. The word made Keith bare his teeth in a snarl-- to be a traitor, he would’ve had to be loyal first. 

With pursed lips, the captain bent at the waist to get closer to eye level with him. One clawed hand reached out, probably to grasp his jaw or some similar intimidation tactic, but Keith jerked his head back and snapped at her.

Fury ignited on her face. 

“Fetch a gag as well.” She ordered as she straightened, lips twisting into a sneer. “The mutt bites.”

“Fuck you.” Keith snarled, speaking for the first time. “You have no idea what kind of hell is about to come down on you.”

“Empty threats from a prisoner,” The captain answered, but Keith smirked just the same. There was fear in her eyes.

The guards held him in place until their comrade returned with the cuffs, then two wrenched his wrists back painfully and fastened them there. His ankles were next, and despite Keith struggling and spitting at them, they eventually managed the gag. 

It was more like a collar than anything else, made of smooth black metal, but it sealed tight over his lips and around the back of his head and didn’t budge no matter how hard he tried to shake it loose. 

“Put him there,” said the captain once they’d finished, gesturing to the left corner of the room. The guards obeyed, hauling the red paladin over to what looked like a barred supply crate. But it would work well enough as a cage as they tossed him in and locked the door behind him. 

Keith’s first instinct was to keep fighting. To slam his feet against the bars and yell into the gag until his skin was rubbed raw from the binds and his voice disappeared. But instead he forced himself to remain still, sucking deep breaths in through his nose to calm the panic beginning to puncture his lungs. His cheekbone throbbed over the edge of the metal gag and he carefully swallowed the blood in his mouth. 

Patience yields focus. He just had to wait-- the mission was only supposed to take a couple of vargas, and when he was late the others would notice. Pidge would activate the tracker in his armor and they’d come get him. Too bad his helmet had been taken by the drones in the beginning: it would have sped up the process considerably.

Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Keith focused on his breathing, closing his eyes and hoping the exercise would help him pass the time until the others came for him. It worked at first, the repetition helping him ignore the pounding of his cheekbone and the claustrophobic sensation of the gag. 

_ Clang. _

A harsh kick rattled the cage and shook Keith from his meditation. Glaring up through the bars he found one of the larger guards standing above him, and the look on the Galra’s face made his gut clench. 

“Captain says we’re not allowed to mess with you.” He said while the captain herself worked in the background, pretending not to hear. “Or the Lion.”

_ Of course they grabbed Red, too. _

Slowly, the guard knelt, wearing a distinct leering expression that had Keith shuffling back a bit from the bars. 

“But it’ll take a few days before we get to Central Command. Maybe she’ll change her mind.”

“Halvar.” The captain snapped, not looking up from her console. “Away.”

With one last sneer Halvar obeyed, and Keith coiled his bound legs a bit closer to his chest. The meditation didn’t work so well after that.

The vargas dragged by slowly. Keith was was given neither food nor water, and enough time passed for his mouth to go dry and his stomach to rumble. More hours went by and his head began to ache, and he started to tremble with hunger. By that metric Keith could estimate he’d been gone from the Castle for around six hours. 

The others would be coming along any time now.

It couldn’t be soon enough.

The gag was starting to cut into him now since he couldn’t budge it an inch, digging deep grooves into his cheeks. He’d begun to shift after awhile, trying not to lock up his muscles at the expense of the cuffs rubbing through his suit. His cheekbone throbbed.

Every so often when the guards walked by they’d hit the cage, a passing thump or kick to knock Keith out of whatever daydream or reverie he’d managed to build up. Halvar watched him from across the room, and as hard as he tried, Keith couldn’t ignore the spiders crawl of his gaze.

After some time, his shoulders began to ache. 

_ Come on, guys. What’s taking you so long?  _

* * *

Pidge was the one to find him, bound hand and foot and crammed into a cage barely big enough to hold him. There was nothing standing in her way-- she’d already shut down all the drones and all the soldiers had been grouped into the hold to be held at the ends of Lance and Hunk’s bayards.

The door of the cage was flimsy and easy enough to pry open, and at the sound Keith blearily lifted his head. His eyes widened when he saw Pidge.

“Hey,” she said with a breathless grin, relieved that he was at least conscious. Sure he looked pale and exhausted and uncomfortable with a bruise darkening on his cheek, but he was awake and alive and that was good enough.

Keith mumbled something behind the gag that Pidge decided to interpret as a greeting, and she took hold of his ankles. With braced feet and a heave, she pulled him out of the cage and onto the bridge floor. 

“Ok, uh… what do you want off first?”

Keith held up his hands. 

It only took Pidge a few seconds to hack past the access code on the cuffs, and the moment they came off Keith was reaching back to disengage the gag while Pidge dealt with the ankle cuffs.

She looked up at Keith’s pained huff of breath, and nausea roiled at the sight. 

Keith had peeled the gag away, sticky with blood, leaving behind twin grooves lining his cheeks. One was neatly between his nose and his upper lip, matched by the one bisecting his chin, and both stretched from one side of his jaw to the other. He looked like he had some sort of sick joker grin. 

“Jesus Christ,” Pidge breathed, unable to draw her eyes away until Keith coughed and she scrambled for the water pouch on her hip. 

“Here,” she said, pushing the pouch at him. “Just a few sips, you don’t want to get sick.”

While Keith took a few cautious slurps from the pouch, Pidge tapped at her helmet. 

“Guys, I found him. Meet back at the Lions.”

“They’ve got Red too,” Keith croaked, reluctantly handing the water back when Pidge gestured for it. 

“It’s alright, we found her first. Can you walk?”

Keith nodded and stumbled to his feet, wincing at the pull of his cramped muscles but standing on his own. So far the worst injury seemed to be from the gag, which Pidge gave a pointed kick before taking Keith by the arm and leading him off the bridge.

* * *

Shiro caught up with them in the med bay and immediately dragged Keith into a hug, weak-kneed with relief. 

It had taken twelve hours to find him, and every minute had been full of agonized panic. 

“I’m so happy you’re alright.” He whispered. Keith patted his shoulder as a response. 

“Now then, Number Four, into the pod!” Crowed Coran, reaching out and breaking the hug. Keith went easily enough at first, but stopped dead the moment he laid eyes on the pod. 

“Uh…” He mumbled, voice still rough. “I’d rather not.”

“That’s alright,” Shiro said immediately, “Coran, can you sort something out?”

“Surely, though it would be easier in the pod, I just need to--”

_ Tap tap. _ When Shiro looked down he found Pidge next to him, giving him her ‘we need to talk’ look. Keith was being ushered towards one of the cots by Coran, so Shiro allowed Pidge to drag him into a corner. 

By the time they emerged Shiro was dripping cold fury from his fingertips. 

They’d put him in a cage. A  _ cage. _

“Uh, Shiro, are you ok?” That was Hunk’s voice. Shiro forced himself to take three steady breaths before answering. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Will you get out some bandages, please?”

By now Coran had helped Keith out of his chest armor and peeled the flight suit down to his waist in order to insert an IV. Shiro approached with the bandages and antiseptic, dragging over a chair to sit in front of him while he compressed his anger into a cold, tight ball in his chest he could deal with later. 

“Here,” said Shiro, handing Keith a water pouch. “Have a little more.”

Keith gave him a tiny grateful smile and Shiro nearly broke down in tears right then. 

He bandaged the wounds from the gag as gently as he could, then moved on to the bruise. One by one the paladins filtered out of the room, leaving with one armed hugs and reassurances from Keith that he was alright, that they could go. Allura popped in for a moment, just to make sure he was alive, and then disappeared again. 

“I’m sorry it took so long.” Shiro waited to whisper this until Coran was on the other side of the room, lingering over the final step of his first aid. “The ship had some sort of new upgrade that scrambled signals. Pidge managed to figure it out, though.”

“It’s alright.” Keith seemed sleepy, practically leaning on Shiro’s shoulder. Coran had already given his diagnosis-- a night with the IV to restore hydration and nutrients without making him sick, a few days of muscle soreness, and a few weeks of looking like the joker before the wounds closed. All in all not too bad. “I knew you guys were coming.”

Shiro’s throat closed at that, but he managed to croak out his question. “Do you want me to stay here with you?”

“I don’t need you to.”

“I didn’t say need, I said want.”

Keith chuckled, little huffing breaths shuddering against Shiro’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I would like that.”

 


End file.
